


Don't talk of death

by Chronomorphosis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Hand of Thrawn Duology - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chronomorphosis/pseuds/Chronomorphosis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A close call makes Thrawn ponder death and leads to a confession, of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't talk of death

**Author's Note:**

> Something super-short that I threw together in about an hour to go with a picture I drew. The writing's a little awkward, haha.

“This last incident was too close for comfort, Admiral, I’m sure you agree.”

Pellaeon nodded. “I do sir. Once the fleet has regrouped at Baras Kashi, I would suggest forming a supplemental training program for the pilots to ensure that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Agreed.” Grand Admiral Thrawn rose from his command chair and stood facing the viewport, glowing eyes taking in the blurred starlines of hyperspace. He picked pensively at the fingertip of one of his gloves, and Admiral Pellaeon knew he was taking this latest row to heart. It had been a harsh blow – but also a wakeup call. They had been taking too many risks and spreading themselves out too thin. Even though their war against the Rebellion was overall proceeding in their favor, it was setbacks like these that were the hardest to bear. Too many lives had been needlessly thrown away, and Thrawn did not take the loss of his men lightly.

Pellaeon also knew that setbacks like these were more and more often putting Thrawn in these deeply thoughtful moods, and if Thrawn had been anyone else Pellaeon would have thought he was brooding. Thrawn smoothed the fabric of one glove and turned to face Pellaeon, coming a step nearer. “Admiral… Surely you are aware that the Chimaera could have been lost today.”

Pellaeon’s posture stiffened. “I am aware, sir.” He’d thought he had done all he could to ensure the safety of Thrawn’s flagship, but if the grand admiral thought he had neglected his duty he was sure now would be the time he would hear of it.

But Thrawn merely nodded and pulled on the cuff of one glove. “The last time the Chimaera was compromised was twelve years ago at the battle of Bilbringi.”

Pellaeon visibly flinched. That battle had been a nightmare – he had thought he had lost everything. They had lost the battle and had almost lost the war, forced to give ground for ten years. Worst of all, the grand admiral had for all intents and purposes died there, betrayed by his Noghri bodyguard. It had only been for the secret alien technology that had, unbeknownst to Pellaeon at the time, saved Thrawn’s life and transferred his essence to a waiting clone body. “This time was different, sir. Much different.”

Thrawn sighed, still picking at his gloves. “I know, Admiral. But it is difficult to see my failures like this one and not compare them. The lives I am responsible for are fragile and fleeting – and my own among them. And yours as well.” He paused for a moment, and Pellaeon thought it was almost like he was hesitating. “…I do not believe I would be capable of forgiving myself if I lost you because of a mistake or miscalculation I had made.”

“You rarely make mistakes, sir. And risk comes with duty. I and everyone else aboard this ship knows this. It is an honor to serve by your side, and anyone aboard this ship would consider it the highest of honors to die serving the Empire.”

“Mm.” Thrawn frowned, his glowing eyes cast down and focused on nothing. His eyebrows knit together for a brief moment, and Pellaeon wondered at how much he was worrying about this. Thrawn continued to pick at the fingertips to his gloves, a few scattered tics of emotion showing for a split second on his face as he thought. But whatever he was mulling over in his head seemed to come to a decision, and he looked up sharply to stare at Pellaeon. The gloves came off, and Thrawn closed the distance between them to stop mere centimeters from Pellaeon’s face.

Pellaeon resisted the urge to take a step back, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Sir…?”

There was a distinct look of worry behind Thrawn’s glowing red eyes, but it was overshadowed by pure determination. “I would rather you never spoke of dying again, Admiral. It disturbs me.”

Pellaeon opened his mouth to respond, but Thrawn cut him off before he could speak. “I have done nothing but think about how short and precarious our lives are for months now. Every time we engage in battle, it comes to the forefront of my thoughts. Every time I am reminded of Bilbringi, every time I look in the mirror and see this clone body. I am surrounded by reminders of death every day, Admiral, and yet I still mire myself down with doubts and misgivings. I am tired of hesitating. And perhaps it is not the wisest of moves on my part -”

Thrawn raised a pale blue hand to brush Pellaeon’s cheek, and his voice dropped to a mere whisper. “- But perhaps it is time I lay those doubts to rest.”

Pellaeon felt himself swallow hard, but he didn’t back away from Thrawn. “What doubts would those be, sir?” His own voice sounded too harsh in his ears.

Thrawn didn’t answer right away. His hand lingered at the side of Pellaeon’s face, his thumb straying to brush over the corner of his lips. He did not meet Pellaeon’s questioning gaze, focusing instead on the other man’s mouth. “…Whether you have feelings for me as I have for you.”

Slowly, as if dragged by a tractor beam, Pellaeon’s hand came up to cover Thrawn’s own. He tilted his head so he could catch Thrawn’s eyes, and allowed himself to smile. “I think you already know the answer to that, sir.”

“…If I asked you to kiss me, Gilad, would you?”

He didn’t really need to ask. Pellaeon didn’t bother answering him, and instead leaned forward and captured Thrawn’s mouth with his own.

 


End file.
